


The Ties That Bind

by swanheartthief



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:39:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanheartthief/pseuds/swanheartthief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal is discovered alive and Rumplestiltskin does the only thing he thinks can save his life- turning him into the new Dark One. Facing a new life with a fate he never wanted, how will Neal heal his already broken relationship with Emma and be a father to his son when the darkness is slowly taking over? Can light and darkness ever coexist as one?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ties That Bind

i. prologue

It's often said that no one can read the future. 

Those with the gift of future sight take hundreds of years to master its magic. And even then, the events are often unexpected and twisted, the details blurry and cold until the moment arrives.

If you had asked him a year ago if he'd be on the ship of his most hated enemy, surrounded by his newly found family who, not long ago, had merely been his pawns, Rumplestiltskin would have scoffed, laughed. He was the Dark One- he didn't care about anything but him and his. And even then, it seemed his first love had always been magic. The irony wasn't lost on him, considering his whole reason for wanting magic to begin with was to protect his son. In protecting his son however, he'd come to know the feeling of power, and never wanted to return to that weak, feeble man he'd been before. But the price of false courage had cost him, and in the end, he'd practically taken his son's life with his own two hands.

He'd let Baelfire fall through the portal. And consequently designed the curse to find him soon after. He'd created monsters and puppets, brought magic into a land that was never supposed to have it. He'd broken his own bones, and walked through three-hundred years of hell for his son, and in the end he'd lost him despite it. He'd always been the first to preach that magic came with a price, and had foolishly hoped losing his son to another land would be the worst of it. It had been naïve, but it never occurred to him that the things he'd done since that point would also catch up to him. He'd believed, as much as he was loathe to admit it, that he was a lot like Regina- others could pay the price for him, and he'd always be okay as long as he looked out for himself, that someone else would ultimately pay the price instead. Life had dealt them cruel cards and thus they felt it was always the world who owed them something. But fate had other ideas.

He'd often told his son that nothing was coincidence, everything that happens is fate's will. He'd destroyed lives and wounded others, and so fate came calling and made him pay once again with the person he loved most. After all, he'd helped others lose their loved ones, it was only fitting he should face the same. 

Even the Dark One, it turned out, couldn't best destiny.

And so when Mulan had arrived, he knew that destiny was giving him one last chance to do the right thing. It had been nightfall when she appeared, everyone sound asleep aboard the Jolly Roger, unaware that Snow and Emma were on board. She'd come in search of help, of any help that wasn't born in Neverland's darkness. Rumplestiltskin had been the only one awake, his turn to take the watch for enemies. As soon as she spoke, he'd felt the ground crumble beneath his feet and when she'd mentioned a wound that sounded eerily like a gun shot, he knew the fates had been kind to him one last time, one last chance to save his son, to do the right thing. 

He'd failed his son far too many times.

He would not fail again.

…

Knocking loudly on the worn wooden door, Rumplestiltskin wasted no time entering the room, jolting Emma awake and sending the woman darting upright, her blonde hair falling messily over her face. Glaring at him, she took a sleepy look out the window, groaning when she saw no light. “What the hell, Gold? It's the middle of the night and it's not my damn turn yet.”

Closing the door behind him, Rumplestiltskin smirked, limping over to her bedside and sitting on the edge, leaning forward onto his cane. “I only need a few minutes, Miss Swan.”

Rolling her eyes and laying her head back against the bed, Emma covered her face with the pillow. “This had better be good,” came the muffled reply.

This time, he laughed quietly to himself. They'd gone many rounds and she'd seen nearly all he was capable of, yet she still didn't fear him. He felt a pang of guilt when he realized that if he and Baelfire had stayed in their village, his son likely would have ended up alone, everyone having been too scared to be anywhere in his father. Emma never had that problem. Perhaps, in another life, they might have been more than a tenuous family. “I want to talk to you about my son.”

He felt her tense on the bed behind him, drawing a sharp breath underneath the pillow before pulling it away from her face. “...why?” she asked quietly.

“Because out of everyone on this ship, you're the only other person who can understand how I feel.”

“Look, Gold, I really don't-” she said, trying to shift away from him, voice somewhere between dull and dark, desperation hinging on the edges. 

“It's important,” he interupted before she could protest further. 

Inhaling shakily, Emma swallowed back the wave of tears, turning away from him. She refused to let that man ever see her cry, even if it was their shared pain. “What do you wanna know?” 

It was Rumplestiltskin's turn to be nervous. Her answer would make or break his path. “Are you in love with my son?”

Emma bolted straight back up and whirled around, her mouth agape while she stared at him, indignance taking the place of sadness. “Oh hell no, you did not seriously wake me up for this.”

“Just answer the question,” he said, his voice beginning to lace with the dangerous edge he took on when someone began to anger him. He clutched tightly at his cane with impatience, every second ticking by possibly meaning the difference between life and death for his son. He didn't want to explain to her what was happening- she needed to be focused on Henry, and knowing that Baelfire was alive would only distract her. If he succeeded, she would find out eventually anyway.

When several minutes passed without a word from her, he rose up from the bed, visibly angry with her silence. Unwilling to wait any longer, he moved to the door, unwilling to waste anymore precious time on her stubborness. Before he could make it out the door, he finally heard her reply, whispered barely above the ocean waves. 

“...yes.”

“Hm?” he asked, turning back to her.

Annoyed at having to repeat it, Emma gripped at her blanket to keep from reaching out to deck him, raising her voice to an angry, flat tone. “Yes I love your son. Too much,” she trailed off, afraid her tears might get the best of her if she kept talking and thinking about it, the words turning to bitter ash on her tongue. “Are you done now? Why are we even having this conversation? You never talk to me like this.”

“Trust me dearie, you don't want to know. Now get some rest. The sun will be rising soon.” 

“You're hiding something.”

He smirked. There never had been much that got past her. “And so what if I am? It's none of your concern Miss Swan and I suspect you'll be finding out soon enough anyway.”

“Gold....”

He softened now, for once no malice or tension written on him. Yes, he felt safe leaving his son's fate in this woman's hands. “Emma. I'm asking you to trust me now, please. Just worry about your boy,” he finished, walking out of the room before she could say another word.

Stricken, Emma was silent, unable to tear her eyes from the door, even after he left. He'd been too calm, too quiet. They were family now, but the closest they'd ever come to any kind of personal conversation was that day in New York, and even then he'd been trying to emotionally blackmail her. Rumplestiltskin never did anything that wasn't in his own best interest.

So why did his words make her feel so uneasy?

…

It seemed like another three-hundred years before he reached that makeshift tent. Mulan had been tense company- her distrust was obvious, her eyes never having left him, and her hand never far from the hilt of her sword, even as she rowed their small boat onto the shore. “He's in here,” she pointed, leading him to a tent of tree branches, blankets, and leaves they'd made on the sand, a pale glowing light showing signs of life inside.

Brushing past the blanket that passed for a doorway, Rumplestiltskin's heart fell, his eyes barely registering the other two people in the tent. He'd heard Mulan introduce them as Aurora and Phillip, but he wasn't listening, his eyes completely transfixed on his son, numb as he knelt beside him. Aurora had been trying to keep Neal cool with a cloth while Phillip took care of his wound, but he was worse for the wear and fading fast. He vaguely heard Phillip tell him that he needed help soon or he likely wouldn't last the night, and felt Aurora press the cloth into his hand. Murmuring to each other, Phillip and Aurora rose in tandem, exiting the tent to allow them privacy, Aurora giving Rumplestiltskin's shoulder a small comforting squeeze before leaving.

Pulling his son from the tangle of blankets, Rumplestiltskin rested Neal's head in his lap, a strangled sob escaping him. Wrapping one arm over him and the other arm behind Neal's neck, he bent his head down so his forehead rested on Neal's, tears fully flowing into droplets that ran down Neal's face, his body wracking with violent sobs. He'd faced down some of the darkest, most terrible things in existence, his mind the very worst hell of all, and absolutely everything paled in the sight of his son, the most precious gift he'd ever been given, laying there, weak and helpless and dying. He would gladly have died a thousand times, given up every drop of magic in his blood, anything in all of time, if his boy would even open his eyes. 

'I'm lame... I'm friendless... all I've got is my boy. And they're gonna take him away from me.'

“Oh, Bae... my beautiful boy... I'm so... so sorry....” he gasped out, words barely coherent while he struggled to breathe, all he could do to keep what little sanity he had left. It had hurt beyond anything he'd known when he was told his son was dead, but it was another pain entirely to see him in such a state and be powerless to stop it. The most powerful man in all the realms and all of it was useless.

'If they take him away I will truly become dust.'

“This is all my fault... this never would never have happened to you if it wasn't for me. All I ever wanted for you was to be happy, for us to be happy and be together. And now I've destroyed you,” he sobbed, holding Neal tightly against his body, afraid he would vanish at any moment. “I took you away... away from your life. Away from me... and then I failed you. You made a new life... you met someone who truly loves you... and now you have a boy of your own. You tried to make a new happy ending... and I stole that away from you too. But I can try... I can try and give it back to you....”

'Imagine me with those powers! Can you imagine me with those powers Bae?! I could get to redeem myself.'

Reaching into his suit, he pulled the cursed dagger from its inner pocket, regarding it with both hate and hope. His life had been turned upside down by it, and yet for all of its chaos came blessing as well. He could feel his heart shatter... his darling Belle in all her beauty, distraught as she walked away from him on the docks. The guilt was overwhelming, knowing she would now be all alone back in Storybrooke. If it hadn't been for her love and her faith, he might never have made it this far, and was forever grateful that whatever gods were out there had allowed them to accompany one another, even if for such a short moment of time. He silently begged for her forgiveness, praying that she would understand and be able to find true happiness again.

Turning the dagger in his palm, Rumplestiltskin raised Neal's arm, placing the hilt in his hand and wrapping his finger's around it. Rumplestiltskin's own hand covered Neal's, tears falling harder knowing his son didn't even have the strength of grip. Moving the blade above his chest on top of his heart, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, preparing himself for what came after. It was the law of the world that once death had claimed something, nothing could ever return it. His son was too close to death for his magic to work properly and so he was left with only one option. He couldn't erase his mistakes... but he could give his son the gift of his immortality. The prophecy of the Seer finally come to pass.

'You will be reunited with your son. And it will come in a most unexpected way. A boy... a young boy will lead you to him. But beware Rumplestiltskin, for that boy is more than he appears. He will lead you to what you seek, but there will be a price. The boy... will be your undoing.'

Henry's kidnapping had lead them here, to the world of nightmares. If it hadn't been for that, he never would have discovered Baelfire was alive. He would never be here to give his son a final chance at life. In the end, he wasn't scared. He was grateful.

Before he could plunge the dagger into his heart, he felt a stirring beneath him, Neal's hand trembling in his own. With a start, his eyes snapped open to reveal Neal's, barely open, but awake. Rumplestiltskin's breath left his lungs, tears falling hard, falling to Neal's shirt and darkening the fabric where they landed. 

Neal was too weak to speak, but his entire body was shaking and his eyes held a certain desperation, a certain fear and Rumplestiltskin could feel him trying to pull away, causing him to grip Neal even harder. He knew what his father was planning. Neal's lips were trying to form silent words, now purple and pale from blood loss. His tears were a horrifying irony after a lifetime of abandonment. The words were silent but the plea was clear.

Let me go.

“Im so sorry Bae... I never, ever wanted this for you...” he said, breathlessly. “But you don't have to be afraid... she will save you. This is the only way... the only thing I can give you. I promised to make it up to you. I want you to be able to grow Bae... I want you to grow old. I want you to laugh a lot and I want you to fall madly in love and marry. I want you to have more children, I want you to make memories with your boy, to have his papa and not grow up without him. Please, let me do this one thing for you...”

Neal was pushing against his father's chest now, trying anything to get away from him, to make his voice work, to call for help, but all of it was useless. There was a fine line between love and madness, and his father had finally crossed it. After several moments of weak rebellion, all of his muscles gave out, no more energy left to give. Tears began to leak from his eyes, the last of his strength in his lips, giving a still small voice to a whimper. “Papa... please...don't... do this.... please...let me go...”

Rumplestiltskin only shook his head. There was no reason left, and once again his own son couldn't even pull him back from the edge. “I can't do that son. I won't let you go again. I'm sorry.”

…

The sun began to rise, blood mixed with watery clouds, casting the lone pirate ship in the ocean in an eerie shade of red.

Emma had never managed to fall back asleep, watching the scenery outside the window while the ocean waves lulled her nerves, anxiety wrapping her stomach in knots. She'd been playing Rumplestiltskin's last words in her mind over and over, trying to piece together anything that might tell her what he was up to. Unable to lay restlessly in bed anymore, she threw the blankets off and moved to stand, tired of being still when her son was out there helpless.

No sooner had her feet touched the floor when a searing hot pain overcame her, her body spiraling to the wood below. Everything in her vision was white hot and blinding, everything in her scream deafening. Wrapping her arms around her body tightly, she cried out for it to stop, but it was useless. Grabbing for her head, she rocked herself, begging for anything to make the pain go away. She could hear the footsteps behind her in alarm, the door crashing open in a loud bang. She could vaguely feel her father's strong arms around her, calling out for her, terrified, her mother clinging to her in fear. Even Hook and Regina had followed, looming over her with concern. 

The last thing she heard was the scream of her own name before the darkness took her under.

…

Uh... so. Haha. Not sure what to say at the end here, other than thank you for reading :D! 

As for that last little scene and why Emma is having a bad reaction... I don't want to say solidly just yet, but I will give you guys a hint- a similar thing happened to Snowing in episode 1x21. And even then it's a bit more complex than that. 

Oh and Rumple's not done either. You'll see.


End file.
